Where All The Dead Men Lay
by Valkyrie Teiwaz
Summary: War does not have "good guys and bad guys." It simply has older men planning the deaths of the young. "But out along the shattered field, where golden dreams turn gray, how very young the faces were, where all the dead men lay." -Henry Grantland Rice. WW2, original characters. Very violent.


_The angels fell like rain._

Corporal Riley rose and took aim. His M1 Garand swayed slightly, the trident-sight hovering on one of the grey figures down the road. Columns of smoke dotted the village. Explosions broke out. Gunfire was almost continuous. Riley's squad was almost nowhere to be found. The group of German storm troopers was in cover. As of now, they hadn't had a chance to shoot back.

Riley fired off three rounds, each shot throwing his aim further from the mark. There was a sharp ping as the clip popped out of the top of the gun. He ducked down behind the stone wall and shoved another clip into the rifle, then pulled on the charging-handle. The man was about to stand as the stone began crumbling, destroyed by returning fire from the Germans. They stopped.

Riley pointed his gun over the wall, fired twice, then stood and took aim once more. He rested the Garand on the stone and fired twice more, then sat back down and pulled out a grenade, then pulled the pin. The Germans fired after one second. Riley waited four more seconds. He glanced at his combatants and lodged the explosive at them.

The storm troopers jumped from out from behind the chest-high stone wall in every direction. Riley counted seven of them. The grenade exploded, killing three and wounding one. The wounded German face-planted, burnt and bleeding. The rest sprinted for the nearest building, which was eighty feet away from them. Riley lined up the first soldier with his gunsight.

He fired once for the first, once for the second, and once for the third. The clip ejected from the rifle. As Riley pushed another clip in, the second German let loose a salvo from his MP44. The rounds punched through Riley. He fell, blacked out, and promptly died. The German stood and gripped his side. It bled slowly. "Just a scratch..." he says in his native tongue.

Mathias shouldered the assault rifle and fell into a light jog. In the distance he heard the hum of aircraft; he looked east and saw dozens of German fighter planes. He smiled for the first time in sixty-three days.

...

It's been twenty-six hours since Riley fell. Mathias wiped the mud from his uniform and tightened the fresh bandage. He stood above the tall grass and surveyed the outskirts of the town. Snow was falling on the soil of Dessau, south of Berlin. The soldier walked north towards Germany's capitol. The MP44 was slung over his shoulder with a strap. His only magazine was in it. The pops and booms of gunfire and explosions was non-stop in the distance.

The ground began to rumble. Mathias stopped. He looked to his immediate right. A Russian tank, a T34, climbed over the hillside and rolled in the direction of Berlin. He went prone on his stomach in the grass and glimpsed more T34's and other light tanks pass him by. He heard boots sloshing through the mud. Mathias got to a squatting position and shouldered his rifle. The footsteps came closer and closer.

The German winced as he saw the green helms of Russian conscripts trot by, the barrels of their guns raised. He got as low as he could without laying down, entirely silent. They continued to move, totally unawares of the storm trooper hiding just feet away. Mathias leveled the sights of his gun with the conscripts.

_Erika. Don't forget me. _

The rifle's muzzle jumped with every shot. Mathias starting crawling away. Bodies hit the mud with a splash. Russians fired wildly in the German's general direction. He stood and sprinted, tripping constantly in the mire. The Red Army soldiers caught sight of him, but not before a T34 gunner did. Mathias ducked as the tank's machine-gunner hosed the area down. The man hit the muck, which then got in his eyes. He frantically wiped them clean as the machine gunner's fire halted.

Mathias got up and ran towards the armored vehicle, then past it. Someone inside shouted, and the hatch opened. The storm trooper glanced back and saw the Russian driver line him up with a rifle's sights. Mathias tripped again, and the bullet sailed over his head. The German aimed at the Russian, who was resetting the bolt of his gun.

Mathias pulled the trigger, but only got clicks. He swore and began to draw his sidearm when the Russian fired and missed, the round centimeters from the target's skull. The German fired four times. Two of the bullets found their mark, hitting the driver and spraying blood. The man slumped into the cabin of the T34, and Mathias got up to get away.

His ears rang. His vision was blurred. His feet hurt. His gunshot wound hurt. Mathias fell to his knees, breathing heavily. The man smiled, despite himself. His mind wandered to Erika when something splashed in a puddle in front of him. The German reached in and pulled it out.  
>A grenade.<p>

He turned, explosive clutched, ready to throw. The device detonated in his grip.

...

Vasilisa lowered her scoped Mosin Nagant. She was younger, about seventeen, and terribly afraid. The exploding storm trooper didn't comfort her. She watched as an explosion spread from his hand and consumed his body in a cloud of smoke, fire, and red mist. Vasi turned to Sasha and nodded. He nodded back and led her back to the battalion. They had a simple understanding between one another.

The woman followed silently. With each passing day, the Red Army got closer to Berlin. Vasilisa listened carefully to the gunfire and explosions emanating from the city. She caught up to Sasha and nudged him.

"Hey."

He looked over at her. "Yes?"

"I..." Vasi thought about her words. "I don't want to do this."

He looked back ahead. "... I know."

...

In the next twenty-one hours, they were in Berlin. Vasilisa was ducked behind a brick wall. Nazi banners hung from buildings. The sound of Panzers rumbling down the street and firing their machine guns was deafening. Sasha was mangled and bloody, stuck on the barbwire around the tank traps. Tears fell from her face as she clutched the scoped rifle. The officer shouted orders.

Several conscripts attached bayonets to their rifles. The officer stood, raised his pistol, and emptied his magazine. The Germans ducked, and the Russians shouted as they charged, bayonets lowered.

"URA!"

The storm troopers shouted in return, firing wildly. Conscripts fell, and conscripts barreled into the front-line, impaling the enemy combatants. The Panzer IV backed up and opened up the machine guns. Vasi watched in horror as her squad-mates were torn apart. Flesh and blood flew. She took aim at the man on the top-mounted gun. She fired. The round hit his chest, jerking him into silence.

Vasilisa ducked back down and set the Nagant's bolt. Bullets whizzed past her head as the Germans screamed something vaguely reminiscent of "sharp shooter." Vasi drew the TT-34 from her holster, then pointed it around the wall and emptied the magazine. The gun bucked viciously. She glanced to the opposite side of the street. The officer lay dead amongst some conscripts. It occurred to her that she was alone.

"Oh, God." Vasi sat down and huddled into the corner as she shoved another magazine into the pistol. "Oh, God," she repeats. Bullets chewed through the wall where she had been standing. She aimed in the direction of the street. Footsteps hit the ground hard as they approached. Magazines were being loaded, and rounds were being chambered. They came quickly. Then... A roar.

Aircraft. Dozens of fighter planes. They fired their cannons and shot their rockets. Lead ripped up the storm troopers and two rockets hit the Panzer. It exploded, fire and smoke billowing into the sky. Vasilisa peeked around the corner to survey the damage. She wiped the tears from her face and vomited, sobbing weakly and silently thanking Stalin.

As she stared into the sky, she heard AA cannons going off. The rounds exploded, hitting allied aircraft.

She saw the planes like angels...

The angels fell like rain.


End file.
